


Soften the lines, Brighten the colors.

by Zurrz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Boy just wants to feel like he belongs., Depictions of Child Abuse, INCREDIBLY SLOW BURN, Like, M/M, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Yes this is Bokuaka., it’s not super graphic but be warned.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 23:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zurrz/pseuds/Zurrz
Summary: Akaashi Keiji doesn’t know who he is. Not in a literal sense, he has control of all his faculties and his memory is as sharp as his eyes are, but in the way that mixing blue and red makes you lose sight of both colors: Gradually, until both fade away into purple and forget what they once were.Akaashi doesn’t want to fade away into something else, but he doesn’t know how to be what he is either. He wants to drag those rough edges of his against another person until proof of his existence is left on them. Until they know that he was here, he existed, he was something other than just the echoes of a past forgotten by all save himself.He wants to be painted in with other colors. Bright whites, rich golds, the deepest undisturbed blacks, until the lines he was sketched with don’t feel quite so deep and unconquerable anymore.He wants to exist outside of the critical gaze of others who call him “beautiful” when the real words are so much the opposite.But mostly he wants to feel like he really fits in somewhere. Not in the past, not in the future, with something or someone firmly planted in the now.But Akaashi Keiji isn’t convinced that type of person exists. Not for him at least.





	1. Untitled

Akaashi Keiji too often feels like a painting sketched by one artist and filled with colors by another. Left with the placard “Untitled” beneath it. Crafted by so many different hands but left unidentified by them all. Permanently left unfinished, rough around the edges despite a charming veneer. 

The constant reminders of his otherness, his mother’s earthen eyes and his father’s tanned skin. So unlike his emerald eyes and porcelain visage. No, these traits are shared by the ghosts in his memory. Simultaneously fading from and searing into his mind for an eternity. Artists whose names he can’t remember, who drew the lines of “Keiji” with jagged, impulsive strokes. Lines carved so deep they can’t ever be erased, forever leaving an imprint on the canvas of his life. The worst kind of creators to have, ones who don’t care what comes after the lines are drawn or what else has to somehow fit alongside what they’ve already etched. 

Then there are the ones who gave him “Akaashi” a name he clings to in the hopes of feeling like it really belongs to him, like it has more weight than “Keiji” does. They filled him with so many colors, surely no person is meant to have so many. Blues, reds, pinks, oranges, so many kinds and so many shades. But no matter how heavily they try to paint on these colors the deep lines of “Keiji” remain so visible. He wears one color, then the next, trying to keep them as a part of his essence, trying to hold onto what is so graciously handed to him but it’s too much and the colors all just clump together. Forming masses of dried acrylic that succumb to their own weight and crash to the floor, leaving crudely drawn lines behind. More colors are thrown onto him, and the cycle repeats. 

Akaashi Keiji. 

Akaashi Keiji. 

Akaashi. 

Keiji. 

Keiji. 

Akaashi. 

In the end he’s just a mess, one others will look on with a so called critical eye and call “art” despite a clear lack of careful crafting. Because it’s easier to see him for his colors, than his lines. No one would have ever seen beauty in “Keiji” but maybe “Akaashi” has a chance. Or at the very least, he hopes he does. He already got a second chance, no way is he going to get a third.


	2. How are you doing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up with the Akaashi’s.

Akaashi Keiji only feels alive when he’s playing volleyball. It wasn’t always that way, but the world proved to him time and time again that life wasn’t fair. The only way to stay ahead was to remain level headed and keep your skills sharp. 

Maybe that was giving the world too much credit, making some grand design out of the rampant chaos. It was a pointless struggle, straining against a world that didn’t make sense, so he did his best to remain one step ahead. 

There was so much he craved, like a child set free in a candy store, unchecked he would take anything he could get his hands on. But he isn’t unchecked. Akaashi at least knows the kind of person he is, one so hollow of any real substance that he just craves to take what others have. 

His parents love him, he knows this. They could have picked any other kid but they had wanted Keiji. They chose him. He was wanted. But then, why does he feel this ravenous hole inside of him? He wasn’t neglected in the least, his parents were good people. Kind people. His father was a stay at home dad who made sure Keiji didn’t have to wait in an empty home for someone to return. 

So why did he feel so alone? 

These thoughts race through his head, flitting from one to the next. Spiraling out of control as he lays on his bed this morning, it’s an unusually hot day so he keeps one foot exposed like a dowsing rod for some nonexistent breeze. There’s no point in him staying in bed, Akaashi is far from a morning person but he was fully awake at this point and all he was doing was driving himself crazy with thoughts that weren’t going anywhere. 

He shed his pajamas. Eyeing himself in the mirror as he did so. A critical eye as he had learned from his mother, she had been a lawyer of renown and carried those skills with her into her new role as an elementary school principal. Was she as self critical as he was? Akaashi could have asked her he supposed but it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She would almost certainly lecture him about something only vaguely related and send him on his way. 

His reflection looked almost free of bags under his eyes, a miracle for Akaashi. Black hair rested together in clumps against his scalp. It had a natural wave to it and tended to become unruly in the morning. This wasn’t anything new. He brushed stray strands out of his face and peered deep into emerald eyes. They’re eyes that belong to someone else, a person buried in his memories but never very far from the surface, always ready to crawl from their grave and wrap skeletal hands around Akaashi’s throat. Akaashi has never seen them as his own eyes. 

Those same eyes make their way across his bare body. Like a bird of prey searching for a meal. He wants to pick away the imperfections until his skin is free of any scars, but regardless of how his gaze may feel he isn’t any kind of predator. Other than the fading scars across his skin Akaashi finds himself to be pretty average, his stomach is just flat. Not defined, certainly not muscular, just flat. The same could be said for his arms. Even with volleyball he hadn’t gained a lot of muscle in middle school. Now that he was going into high school he should try and get some muscle shouldn’t he? 

Girls liked that didn’t they? Or at least that’s what books and movies told him. But Akaashi wasn’t sure he liked girls. He wasn’t sure if he even liked boys. Then again, he didn’t really like anyone at all even without romance in the equation. Other than his parents of course. People had admirable traits - that was to say he personally admired certain qualities - but never enough to want to keep someone around even as a friend. 

“Keiji?” His mother’s voice flowed upstairs to where his bedroom is, she must have heard him moving around. He didn’t respond, opting instead to dress and meet her downstairs. 

When he arrived the kitchen was flooding with light from the windows that took up most of the wall space, Akaashi had always been loved this room. He shared a lot of pleasant memories with his parents in here, memories of love and laughter that he cherished. He looked to make eye contact with his mother, she was watching him with fondness. “Good morning, Keiji!” 

She comes to wrap her arms around him. It’s a slow, gentle expression of affection that he appreciates. Every morning that she’s home begins the same way. With a hug. 

“How are you doing?” The same question. 

“Fine.” And his same response. It hasn’t changed since she first asked him all those years ago, when he was just a scared little boy sent to live with people he didn’t know. 

His mother doesn’t seem to mind this, she gives him the same appraising look she always does as if trying to find her own answer to the question, then turns back to the stovetop to finish cooking her breakfast. “Do you want some eggs?” 

“No, thank you.” 

She chatters on as she cooks, talking about kids at the school she works at, about dad and how he’s out tending the garden so the plants survive this heat wave, about how proud she is that he was accepted into Fukurodani. He listens, absorbing what she’s saying. 

He can’t help but feel warmth for this woman spread across his chest. She always talks to him like this, as if they were equally contributing to the conversation. She doesn’t try to prompt him into speaking or get frustrated with his lack of responses. She just speaks, and he listens, and that feels right somehow. 

“I couldn’t contact the courier’s office in time so I need you to deliver the papers to the school for me when they arrive, alright?” He blinks, trying to put the pieces of what she just said with the information he had received earlier. They don’t fit. He hadn’t caught what she had said before this. A small smile spreads across her face, even up into her eyes which hold such a sense of knowing. “Your father has to go into the city for an appointment, so this is up to you.” He nods slowly. Right, dad was going to be gone so he had the house to himself for a few hours. Odd. He nods a second time, this time the action is more curt. Mom seems to take this as confirmation that he understands exactly what he’s supposed to do because she mirrors the gesture. 

“I’ve gotta go now. I love you, have a good day.” And with a peck on his cheek and the gathering of bags she’s gone. 

He remains sitting at the counter for several more minutes, watching his father through the far windows as he tends to a plot of flowers. The garden had sprung from a plea of a much younger Keiji, the first thing he had ever asked for from his parents. The three of them had planted those original flowers together, and they were long gone by now but dad had grown to like gardening so they continued the tradition every year and every year the garden got bigger and bigger. 

Akaashi abandons his spot at the counter, taking up his post on the couch instead. He tucks his feet beneath him as he settles in, changing the TV over to the Blu-ray player so he can watch the old Voltron disc that takes a near permanent residence inside the machine. 

Time passes and the episode is nearly over when his father enters through the back door, the man settles in next to him with a laugh. “This one again? How come I don’t ever get to pick?” 

“Because you always choose wrong.” 

“Ouch, Keiji I’m wounded. I can’t believe my loving son would say something like that to me.” He fakes offense, laughing all the while. His father is a large man, tall with a bit of a belly, his hands almost always have dirt beneath his fingernails and he wears too much body spray but he’s a kind man and has always shown his affection with no reservations. Keiji loves him dearly. 

It was his father who would sing to him when he had nightmares. His father who would watch hour after hour of cartoons next to him, commenting merrily on the contents despite the fact that Keiji spent most of the time eying him with fear and suspicion. His father who always seemed to have a sense for when he needed physical affection or absolutely needed to not be touched. His father who would try his best to bake Keiji birthday cakes even when his attempts at frosting art left the boy confused more often than not. 

Akaashi thinks if there ever was a person who deserved to be idolized it was the man sitting next to him with dirty hands that ruffle his hair. 

When the show is over Akaashi pauses the screen before the next episode can begin, turning to look at his father. 

“I gotta go soon, are you gonna be alright without me?” 

“Yes.”

“Ugh. My little baby all grown up, you know it feels like it was only yesterday you were cuddled up next to me watching the X-Files and here you are - ready to be the man of the house!” 

He has to break eye contact when he feels a bit embarrassed. That was only yesterday. But in his defense he wasn’t feeling very well and his dad just so happened to be there smelling like sunshine and soil. It was relaxing and rest was a potent remedy. 

He loves his mother, but his father always made him feel like he was somewhere he belonged even when Akaashi’s thoughts were telling him otherwise. 

“Call me if you need me, alright? I’ll come running.” 

Akaashi didn’t doubt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can’t leave Akaashi by himself or he just runs away with his own thoughts. 
> 
> Bokuto is coming up I promise - I just couldn’t resist all this sweet sweet family time.


	3. Hey, hey, hey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owlboy makes his debut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What kind of trash can person uploads three chapters in a day? Well I do and the day isn’t over yet so just try and stop me! 
> 
> Trashcan-san.

He sits on the sofa the rest of the morning, only getting up to make himself a cup of tea and eye the contents of the refrigerator. He knows he should eat something, especially since he has to make the trip to his mother’s school today, but nothing looks particularly appetizing to him in the morning. 

Akaashi doesn’t like being alone. He feels that he becomes a much darker person when he doesn’t have someone else to leech off of - someone whose light he can follow as an example for how any “normal” well-adjusted human is supposed to act. 

It’s frustrating, this sense of self loathing. Because ultimately it has nothing to do with him. It’s where he came from that he hates, who he came from. It’s like a stain he’s been trying to scrub out all these years, but the stain doesn’t budge and his hands get blistered in his attempt instead. 

When he’s alone like this he feels like a guest in his own home. 

He wonders what happens when he’s old enough to move out, when he goes off to college and their normal routines and patterns fade away. Maybe the routine is the only thing keeping him here and they’ll realize they don’t really care about him that much anyway. 

The doorbell rings and jolts him out of his thoughts. Good. At his core he knows those thoughts are wrong anyway, that doesn’t mean it’s easy to stop them once they start. 

The woman before him when he answers the door is athletic, leaning up against a bike as she scribbles some things down on the notepad in her hand. She has an odd scar on her forehead that catches his attention just long enough for him to observe it. 

After making polite enough conversation with the courier and receiving the brown envelope addressed to his mother, Akaashi returns to the cool of his home only to exit again through the back door and make his way to the shed out back where his bicycle is. 

It was a little small, especially since he had grown a few inches during the last months of middle school, but he didn’t ride it enough to warrant his parents buying him a new one so he didn’t bother to ask. 

The ride to the school didn’t take him very long on wheels, but it was too hot out and his shirt stuck his skin - sticky with sweat. Despite the heat Akaashi was able to appreciate the scenery, the garden at home wasn’t the only one in the neighborhood and this time of year the plants stood tall and proud. Or at least the ones that had been watered today did, but even then the ones that hadn’t maintained a strange sort of morbid appeal. 

Finally, he turns onto the street the elementary school sits. It’s a beautiful school, renovated within the past couple of years, unfortunately the renovations took place after Akaashi had attended but he was still able to be happy and appreciate them for the kids. But maybe that was only because his mother was so pleased with the way they had turned out. 

The inside of the school was air conditioned thankfully, there seemed to be a lot of activities going on despite the fact it was break and kids milled about the halls in various small groups. Akaashi passed the gymnasium on his way to the principal’s office, there seemed to be some sort of volleyball clinic going on but he really just wanted to get this delivery over with so he could go home. Getting the hellish bike ride home out of the way was his only priority. 

He passed through the doorway of the principal's office, casting a careful gaze over the drawings on the walls. His mother was on the phone, giving him a smile when he entered but otherwise focused on her task. He remained quiet and looked at the drawings, gifts from the students of this very school over the years. 

Except for one. This one was framed and hung near her desk. It was clearly done by a child, their rendition of three people gardening, all wearing matching sun hats though Akaashi was fairly certain that hadn’t happened in real life. 

There was a click as his mother returned the phone to its receiver. He watched her as she looked from the drawing to him, her earthen eyes warming. “You know, that’s the only drawing you’ve ever done for me. Back before you decided you were a terrible artist and shouldn’t be creating anything at all. I’ve always thought it was quite good.” 

“Did we ever own matching sun hats?” 

She hummed, half laugh half thought. “No, but I quite like the artist’s interpretation.” 

“That’s only because you’re biased.” 

“Gladly!” She laughed. Akaashi handed the envelope to her, happy to have it out of his hands. “Thank you, Keiji! I have to sort through some things but I’ll give you a ride home in a bit, alright?” He nodded in response, accepting the offer and turned on his heel to leave his mother to her work. 

With that, he found himself extremely unsure what to do. This was an elementary school, the library here wasn’t catered towards him in the least. He didn’t want to go outside, it was too uncomfortable out there, but he didn’t want to just twiddle his thumbs and wait around either. With a sigh Akaashi turned back to the gym, peeking his head in through the doors. He was going to offer to help with the clinic, but it seemed parents were picking their kids up already. That was a shame, but he could probably still get some practice in if the gym wasn’t going to be used for another purpose. 

“You there! Clinic’s over but I’m still here, do you know how to play?” The speaker was loud and Akaashi jumped slightly at the brashness of his tone. The boy who spoke was probably around his age, older judging by the fact that he had much more muscle than Akaashi did. He was taller and had a wide grin even when addressing a complete stranger. His golden eyes shined and the boy seemed friendly enough, although his hair reminded Akaashi of the great horned owls he had seen in a documentary once. 

He knew for a fact owls weren’t always friendly. 

Reservedly Akaashi nodded, taking a few small steps forward. 

The owl boy jumped, grin somehow spreading wider. “Great! Let’s play! Oh - uh, name’s Bokuto Koutarou! I’m a second year at Fukurodani Academy! We’re gonna win Nationals this year I just know it! Hey hey hey!” He did some sort of cheer, making his hands into fists and pumping them. 

Okay. 

He gave a small bow as this boy was older than him, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Bokuto-san, my name is Akaashi Keiji.” 

“‘Kaashi? Hmph. Suits ya!” Bokuto gave a thumbs up of approval and Akaashi nodded in response. 

“Thank you Bokuto-san.” 

“So ‘Kaashi, what position do you play? I’m a wing spiker!” 

Of course he was. 

“Sette-“ 

“Duh! Of course you’re a setter! I’m such an idiot, that should have been obvious, ya look like a real smart guy!” 

Akaashi opened his mouth to respond when suddenly Bokuto was in front of him, at a closeness he allowed only to his parents. “‘Kaashi I have a great idea! Throw some tosses for me, c’mon let me show you my spike! A smart guy like you has to be a great setter, yeah?”

The setter took a step back, trying to retreat to a comfortable distance but the owl followed undeterred. 

“Bokuto-san please don’t stand so close.” 

Bokuto blinked, looking at the space between them and then back at Akaashi. The confusion faded from his face after a moment and he gave an enthusiastic nod. “Sure, ‘Kaashi! So, will you set for me?” He jumped back several paces, much farther than he needed to be but it was a surprisingly considerate act. 

Fine. It’s not like he had anything to do anyway and this guy wasn’t terrible. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna post six chapters today so we’ll see.


	4. Akaashi-sensei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> //flustered hooting
> 
> There you go. That’s the chapter.

Bokuto could play. 

He could really play. Too well maybe. 

The ball slammed into the floor with more power than Akaashi had ever seen. 

“Well, ‘Kaashi? Whaddaya think! Am I great or what!” 

“You were incredible, Bokuto-san.” 

He really meant it too. What was this guy? Were all high school players like this? Akaashi couldn’t help but compare the two of them. He was a decent enough setter, smart enough to figure out what kind of set Bokuto wanted, but he wasn’t anything exceptional. 

Bokuto on the other hand was able to hit a great spike off of any of his tosses, maybe it was just a matter of their experience levels being vastly different. Or maybe it was that Bokuto was just that good. 

It kinda pissed him off if Akaashi was being perfectly honest. He wasn’t even on the volleyball team yet and already there were massive roadblocks in his way at Fukurodani. Or at least there was one. 

“Come on, ‘Kaashi! Another!” 

Bokuto doesn’t relent for even a second, so naturally Akaashi doesn’t either. Even when his muscles begged for him to stop he continues to practice with Bokuto. 

He begins to set another ball, golden eyes boring into him. “Keiji?” His mother calls him from the doorway, distracting him as the ball flies from his grasp. It’s targeting is way off, it’s too low but Bokuto goes for it anyway. He spikes it and the ball awkwardly hits the top of the net, having just enough momentum remaining to flop over to the opposite side and land on the ground unceremoniously. There’s a pause, in which Akaashi straightens out to go speak to his mother when - 

“Damn it! Sorry ‘Kaashi that was a great set and I screwed it all up.” His hands were in his his hair, ruffling several pieces out of place. Opening his eyes and turning to Akaashi, he blinked, looking past the setter and to the woman standing behind him. “Uh, I mean, darn, no, not uh,” His mouth opened and closed for several seconds before he clapped his hands together and bowed. “I’m sorry, Akaashi-sensei please forgive me!” 

It wasn’t a great set at all, only the players that went to this school could get away with such an awful set - but more than that…

He was apologizing to mother? Did that mean he was one of her past students? Or maybe it was just because she was the principal of this school. 

“Koutarou-kun, nice to see you too. Still causing trouble it seems. Keiji are you ready to go?” She watched him expectantly, not seeming to be particularly surprised to find her son playing volleyball. 

“Mm. Yes.” He turned and gave a small nod to Bokuto as thanks for his time and went to leave. 

Bokuto blinked between them, squinting slightly. “Wait, Akaashi-sensei and ‘Kaashi know each other? ‘Kaashi you’re really Akaashi?! Why didn’t you tell me!” 

“I introduced myself to you earlier, Bokuto-san. My name is Akaashi Keiji. You’re the one who decided to call me differently.” 

“Whatever, Akaashi!” He pointed a finger at the other boy, standing up at full height. “I hope we meet each other on the court sometime, Fukurodani’s gonna crush you!” 

He was so earnest and passionate that Akaashi couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I very much doubt that, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto had never asked about his school, so naturally he didn’t know just how unlikely it was for Akaashi to be matched against Fukurodani. 

The car ride back home was quiet, Akaashi didn’t say anything and kept his forehead pressed against the glass of the window next to him. 

Finally, his mother spoke. 

“Koutarou-kun is a good kid, you know. He’s loud, yes, but he’s always been a very kind boy. You could-“ 

“Please stop.” He knew where she was going with this. She wanted him to make friends, she was under the impression that he was just some sad boy who lurked in the corners at school and watched everyone else with envy as they socialized. 

That wasn’t the case, he was perfectly fine with things as they were and he definitely didn’t need his mother to butt in and try to get him to become best friends with some random guy he had played some volleyball with one time. 

“Keiji, I just want you do be happy. People can’t live alone you know?” Her voice was gentle, and he knew she really did mean the best for him. That didn’t make him any less tired of hearing these words from her. 

“I’m not alone. I have you and dad.” He was aware of how it must have sounded when he said it. Pathetic. But he really didn’t mind. Akaashi had friends when he was younger, but that was a long time ago. In another life even. He had needed those friends to survive… things. But now that was no longer a concern. He didn’t need friends now. 

He was fine. His life was fine. His mother just needed to stop worrying so much. 

He saw his mother close her lips together in a flat line. 

After a moment she spoke again, “Yes you do, Keiji, always.” 

They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please cut my boy Keiji some slack, he’s not quite sure how to approach l i v i n g at this point but he’s gonna try his best and get a handle on things I swear.


	5. Nightmare: Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It think it’s only fair to extend a trigger warning for this chapter. I will also be updating the tags to reflect this. This chapter consists of a nightmare Akaashi has containing abusive parts of his childhood. It’s pretty uncomfortable, but I felt it was a part of his story that needed to be told to explain him better. 
> 
> That being said: You may not be able to fully understand Akaashi’s mannerisms without it but I think it can be safely skipped without making the plot a confusing mess so please do if you think this may trigger you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my one and only subscriber on this fic. You are the light of my life and I hope this chapter doesn’t scare you away.

Akaashi has nightmares enough to know which kinds he prefers. If he had to choose he’d go for the abstract nightmares with terrible imagery every time. It’s the other ones he’d actively avoid if given the chance, those ones are closer to memories than anything else and he almost can’t stand it. 

Unfortunately it’s the second kind of nightmare he’s having now. The worst part is that he’s aware of it, but he can’t figure out how he’s supposed to wake himself up. 

Hands cover his body. They try to pull him in all different directions, or fawn over him like he’s some expensive doll. They touch him roughly, without concern for the fact that he is in fact a person. But he keeps his mouth shut because that’s what he was always told to do. 

Then they appear. He’s almost certain they would look different in real life but in the haze of his nightmare his brain connects these people before him to the people he was with before coming to live with his parents. 

One of them, a woman, appraises him with dull eyes lacking any semblance of affection. These aren’t the eyes of a mother, he knows what those look like and these ones are far too sinister to even be put on the same level. 

She kneels before him wrapping her arms around him, “Keiji-kun, shh, shh. Everything is just fine Keiji-kun.” Then she sits upright and wraps her hands around his throat, straddling him as she chokes the life out of him. He tries to fight back but she’s so much bigger than him. He doesn’t stand a chance. He squirms against the dirt and tries to kick her away but he just can’t get a good enough angle. 

He blacks out and this time he’s with a man. The man has sharp green eyes that flicker from side to side but never cast a glance at Akaashi. He knows he doesn’t matter. He’s never mattered. 

It’s far too hot for a scarf but one scratches at his neck anyway, he wants to take it off but the man next to him has already hit him across the head for trying earlier. Akaashi is pulled roughly through a doorway where he comes face to face with a pair of men with smiles that make him shiver. 

“Ah, you must be Keiji-kun.” The first man squats in front of him and eyes him with ill intent. Raising a dirty hand he grabs Akaashi’s face and strokes his cheeks with sharp fingernails. “Have your parents ever told you how beautiful you are, Keiji-kun?” 

The second man pulls at the scarf around his neck, tugging it off and Akaashi finds himself taking back his earlier wishes of having it removed. Thick fingers wrap around his throat as if trying to match up with the bruises there and Akaashi wants to yell out for them to stop. But he keeps his mouth shut because that’s what he was always told to do. 

“You know you’re not gonna get as much for ‘im, I’m sure the pictures will still sell just fine considering your boy here is prettier than a lot of little girls I’ve seen, but you gotta understand our clients don’t like being reminded that the kids they’re looking at aren’t exactly happy to be there. Bruises ruin the illusion.” 

He’s pushed forward by the green eyed man who doesn’t seem to care, he holds out a hand expectantly and is handed an envelope. 

The green eyed man goes, leaving Akaashi behind. He wants to call out, to ask why he’s being abandoned or what he did wrong. But he keeps his mouth shut because that’s what he was always told to do. 

Hands grab at him again, they claw and squeeze and paw at him. They dress him and position him just right and the camera flashes hurt his eyes. He wants to tell them to to stop. To ask to go home. To ask for a meal because he is so hungry. But he keeps his mouth shut because that’s what he was always told to do. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

He’s ripped from the dream by someone shaking him awake. He kicks against them fighting back at hands that grab at him. Why are they always touching him? Why do people think it’s okay to lay their hands on him like his feelings in the matter aren’t important. He can’t stand it. 

“Keiji. Keiji it’s your dad. It’s okay.” 

In his sleep haze his image of ‘dad’ and the man in front of him don’t match up. All he can think about are those sharp green eyes. 

“Shh. Keiji everything is okay. You’re safe. I’m here with you.” 

He bats the hands away but he doesn’t say anything. He keeps his mouth shut because that’s what he was always told to do. 

He hears the hums, a familiar tune in a familiar tone. It’s the one his father had always used to soothe him. His father who has soft eyes and a round face. 

“Shh. There there my boy. You’re safe. Keiji.”

He wants to tell his father to use different words. To not use his name. To call him Akaashi. To do anything but remind him of back then. But he shuts his mouth. 

_“Keiji-kun, shh, shh. Everything is just fine Keiji-kun.”_


	6. Lucky charm

He feels strangely relaxed. Like he’s being dragged into the sea by the tides but it’s a warm and sunny day so he enjoys the feeling before ultimately being dragged under water.

The only first day of school Akaashi has ever been nervous about was the one right after he came to live with his parents. Even so this kind of relaxation can’t be normal. Especially considering he couldn’t quiet his mind down at all last night following his nightmares and he’s barely gotten any sleep. 

Yippee. 

But his body is relaxed, and his mind is clear and ready to be filled with whatever knowledge high school may impart. He feels a small tingle in his fingertips. It’s the one that tells him he’s going to have his hands on a volleyball before he knows it. 

He still has to make it through a long day before getting to that point. To make matters even more problematic his father won’t stop fawning over him. He gives Akaashi his allowance three times that morning and won’t take back the extra, insisting he may need something at school. He cooks him breakfast even though Akaashi would have much rather just taken something with him for later. And as Akaashi tries to leave his father grabs his hand and squeezes it softly. “Have fun today, alright Keiji? I know it’s hard for you to talk with people, but not all of them are bad. Mom and I surprised you, who’s to say other people can’t as well?” 

He always does this, give Akaashi some sort of pep talk after nights like last night. From a logical perspective he can see his father’s point. His fear doesn’t come from a logical place though. He squeezes his father's hand in response, expressing that he had heard him and then Akaashi pulls away. 

 

His first day of high school was… well it was trying. Fukurodani Academy was larger than his middle school had been, as a result of that it had many more students and faculty alike. At a new school, where many people didn’t know him, he was approached many times by students trying to get to know him. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, apparently he wasn’t completely unlikeable. But they just refused to leave him alone. 

“Wanna eat lunch with us Akaashi-kun?” A circle of girls surrounded him clutching their colorfully decorated bento boxes. He recognizes a few of them from his class, but the rest seem to be from other classes. 

“No thank you.” He doesn’t think to elaborate, surely their feelings can’t be hurt by a simple denial of their request. But it seems he was wrong. 

“Why not Akaashi-kun? Did someone already invite you?” The girls frown, save for one who looks positively disinterested in the entire event. 

“I appreciate your offer but I simply prefer to eat by myself.” He excuses himself and begins to head back to his classroom, when instead his name is called. Or screamed to be more precise.

“AAKAAASHI!” He has to take a step backwards to avoid getting bowled over by the incoming second year. “‘Kaashi! Hey! Do you remember me from, uh, the other day?” Bokuto suddenly seems nervous, and somehow completely oblivious to just how memorable he is.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Even so, Akaashi can’t help but pick on him just a little bit. The wing spiker’s golden eyes are like saucers now as he looks at Akaashi, mouth unsure what to say. 

“Y-you don’t… I’m…” He seemed on the verge of tears as he brought his hands to his head in stress. 

“Alright, enough. I know exactly who you are, Bokuto-san.” The second year jumps back at attention with a grin. 

“Come on ‘Kaashi don’t tease me!” But he doesn’t look particularly upset. Instead he seems more than anything: Happy to be remembered. 

“What is it that you need, Bokuto-san?” The owl before him blinks several times in thought before wrapping his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders. 

What is it about people thinking they can just touch him whenever they want? 

“Too close, Bokuto-san.” It’s a warning, and one that Bokuto seems to pick up, quickly jumping away as Akaashi tries to relax the sudden stiffening of his shoulders. 

“Argh, sorry ‘Kaashi I forgot!” The larger boy bumps into a girl behind him and turns to apologize, stumbling over his words again. The girl seems rather confused and instead of leave her to experience Bokuto’s apologetic rant he interjects. 

“Sorry for the inconvenience, please excuse him.” He bows in apology before turning and gesturing for Bokuto follow him away from the blushing girl. 

Instead of Bokuto following him the taller boy takes the lead and guides Akaashi through the hallways, away from the classroom where he’d rather be eating by himself and to just outside the back doors by the library. It’s a fairly secluded spot that doesn’t seem to be a popular lunch spots for students but when they arrive there’s a cluster of boys already there. 

“Bokuto, you can’t just kidnap kids and force them into joining the team!” 

“Yeah man, leave the poor first years alone.” 

“Sorry he dragged you around, we should have kept a better eye on him. He’s an idiot but he’s harmless, just tell him to scram if he shows up again.” 

“G-guys, this is ‘Kaashi. We’re old pals!”

They were hardly old pals, but there wasn’t really a point in correcting him since it wasn’t like he hadn’t chosen to come along with Bokuto in the first place. 

He raised a hand in greeting, nodding at the other boys. “Akaashi Keiji.” They waved back and returned their attention to Bokuto, one of them grinning. 

“So then, this is your so called ‘good luck charm’? How’d that story go again anyway, I’m sure he’d love to hear it.”

Bokuto turned on Akaashi, eyes shining. “Right! ‘Kaashi that’s why I brought you here to see the team - you’re gonna be our setter! Konoha volunteered but he’s pretty shitty s-“ 

“Hey!” The boy that had spoken previously seemed offended. That must have been Konoha. 

“You… What?” 

“Right, so, here’s what happened!” Bokuto raised his hands, gesturing excitedly. “So we played volleyball together right and you were setting for me, well then you left so I went home and on my way home… ONE THOUSAND YEN! Amazing! It was just laying there in the road and there wasn’t anyone around so I thought it was meant just for me after all I am the best and-“ 

“Bokuto-san, the point?” 

“Right ‘Kaashi so I went to the next street and there was a vendor selling meat buns! Meat buns! Another miracle! And when I went to get one I realized I had left my wallet at home so the only money I had was the bill I found on the ground and when I pulled it out- the man at the stand told me I could have TWO meat buns for the thousand yen so THERE. You’ve gotta be out setter, ‘Kaashi you just gotta!”

“There, flawless logic.” Konoha patted Bokuto on the shoulder and the boy behind them snickered. 

“Bokuto-san… It sounds like you got ripped off.” 

“Ouch. Akaashi’s a pretty blunt guy, huh? So much for your sound logic, eh Ace?” 

“No, no. ‘Kaashi you brought me eternal luck after we played so if you’re always setting for the team then we’ll definitely make it to Nationals!” 

“I’m not really following this but I was already planning on coming to practice after class. So, I’m gonna go now.” Akaashi pointed towards the door as he turned. 

“‘Kaashi, wait!” 

“Bokuto-san, I would like to eat before lunch is over if you don’t mind.” 

Bokuto seemed conflicted, brow furrowing as he considered. Finally he sighed and his eyes sharpened. “Fine! But promise me you’ll come to practice, we really need you on the team. It’s destiny!” 

Akaashi blinked, thoughts going a mile a minute. On one hand, he had already said he was going to practice so this was a pointless gesture, on the other he felt a little… warm. Bokuto was loud, a little obnoxious, and far too excitable. But he was also earnest and always seemed to speak honestly even if it didn’t always make a lot of sense or was filled with childish notions like destiny. 

They were qualities he admired, ones he sometimes wished he could hold for himself. 

Bokuto really didn’t seem like a bad guy. 

“I promise, Bokuto-san.” 

But Akaashi would keep an eye on him before he came to any other conclusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi’s only undecided on Bokuto cause he hasn’t looked at his ass yet.


	7. 'Kaashi can cook?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes i'm gonna try and upload at least three chapters today so we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> just gonna take this time to apologize for formatting (or the lack of it) i've been writing this on my phone and viewing it on mobile so it probably looks like hell if you're on desktop. sorry. ;w;

It’s by the third week of practice that the Fukurodani VBC is certain: Akaashi is just as much an animal as Bokuto is. The two of them never stop. 

Bokuto has an unmistakable fire alight behind his eyes, like molten gold they simmer. But Akaashi, his passion is like an inferno behind closed doors. You can sense it’s there, but if you were to even crack open the door to check you would surely be taken over by the flames. 

They were just too much. But at least Bokuto wasn’t asking as frequently for other members to stay late and practice with him. 

“‘Kaashi?!” Bokuto turned to face the setter who was holding the ball beneath his arm rather than set it. The confusion on his face was evident, brow furrowing as he fumbled his arms.

Oh? Trouble in paradise. 

“Bokuto-san, it’s getting late. We should clean up.” Akaashi didn’t seem to be moved by the expression on his wing spiker’s face, he had grown used to Bokuto’s expressions and the puppy dog eyes had even less of an impact on him then they had when the boys first met.

Bokuto opened his mouth to argue, but a steely look from Akaashi settled him. “Fine.” 

Sure, they were both monsters. But Akaashi at least had some sense. 

 

 

Turning the corner way from the school Bokuto grew quiet, he fussed with his hair as it began to fall out of place, straightening the strands. He stayed quiet, twiddling with the hem of his shirt and the strap of his bag. 

With a sigh Akaashi broke the silence, he didn’t mind it but something was clearly bothering the wing spiker next to him and he couldn’t just ignore that. “Bokuto-san what’s wrong?” 

The owl boy paused, stopping their walk dramatically. “What if Akaashi-sensei hates me?! I might make a horrible first impression and then she’ll never let you play volleyball again.” One look told Akaashi this was an honest concern. Somehow.

“It’s hardly a first impression, you know each other already. Besides Bokuto-san she’s met you and still let me play, I doubt you can do anything worse.” 

Bokuto seemed to take this as a compliment, nodding his head enthusiastically as he resumed walking. After a moment he stopped again, turning with a glare to Akaashi. “Wait! That was an insult wasn’t it?! C’mon ‘Kaashi I’m great! She’s gonna love me!” And there it was, Bokuto had somehow gone from being nervous to certain that there was no way he could be disliked.

“Of course, Bokuto-san.” They continued their walk, Bokuto chattering on as they went. 

 

“Welcome home Keiji! Good to see you again Koutarou-kun, how has school been going?” His mother had paused in her cooking, turning her head to greet them as they entered the house. 

“It was Mom’s turn to cook tonight, sorry about that Koutarou-kun but you came on a dangerous night.” His father’s voice came from the living room around the corner, faux fear heavy in his words. 

“Isao! Don’t tease our young guest, he doesn’t know you’re kidding!” His mother craned her neck to cast sharp look as his father, but it seemed he wasn't willing to humor her with another response and she looked back at the boys.

“Yeah, it’s not dangerous so much as it’s an adventure.” Akaashi’s quip came without hesitation, 

“Keiji!” 

“‘Kaashi did you just make a joke?!”

Bokuto was unsure what to do, Akaashi was acting differently and while it wasn’t bad he just wasn’t used to it. The guy really didn’t enjoy the company of other people did he? He seemed just fine around his family though. 

“Come on Koutarou-kun, come talk to me while Keiji and Mom finish dinner.” It wasn’t a request, the elder Akaashi’s tone made that obvious but he also didn’t seem to be any kind of a threat. Maybe he was just curious about the boy his son had brought home.

Bokuto tried to find an escape route but Akaashi had already taken off his coat and was at the sink washing his hands - seemingly oblivious to the plight of the great horned owl. 

“Uh, okay. Wait - ‘Kaashi can cook?!” Bokuto couldn’t cook and he was a year older than Akaashi. Was this a sign of the end-times? The younger generation was coming to take his place! 

“Of course he can cook! He grew up with me at home to teach him.” The man puffed out his chest and cast a glance backwards to his family, grinning.

“Woah! Are you a stay-at-home Dad?!” Bokuto fell onto the couch next to Isao, eyes wide.

“Sure am!” Came Isao’s proud rumble. With that Isao went on a long explanation of what went into his role as a parent and raising Keiji in particular - a subject Bokuto seemed strangely interested in, propping himself up on his knees to stare at the man next to him. Why? It wasn’t like he needed parenting tips. Akaashi decided to ignore the conversation, he couldn't try to keep up with it and make sure the food didn't burn at the same time.

 

“Well they’re getting along just swimmingly! Koutarou-kun is a bit like Dad isn’t he?” His mother spoke in fond tones next to him and Akaashi couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. It wasn’t like he had to share his parents often and all this attention on Bokuto was bothering him. 

Had he ever had to share them? It occurs to Akaashi that he’s never brought anyone home with him before. He’s had other teammates, sure, but none of them were even half as loud and insistent as the one sitting with his father on the couch so they hadn’t pressed the matter when Akaashi would politely decline their inquiries about his family.

But Bokuto-san couldn’t take a hint. He just kept insisting that he visit with the Akaashis - to be honest Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure what his reasoning was as it seemed to change every time Bokuto asked. Finally Akaashi just gave up. Bokuto wasn’t going to shut up about it and Akaashi was finding arguing about it be very tiresome. 

So here they were. 

“‘Kaashi!!” The Akaashi in question jumped, utensils in his hands sending a spots of oil onto the stovetop as they clattered against the pan. How had the loudest human being ever to exist manage to sneak up on him?!

Regaining his composure and ignoring the twitch of his mother’s lips Akaashi lowered the heat on the stove and turned to face the other boy. “Hello Bokuto-san.” Bokuto was leaning over the kitchen island, eyeing Akaashi’s face carefully. He didn’t respond immediately, so Akaashi prompted him again. 

Bokuto responded with a hum and an enthusiastic nod. “Alright, I’ll believe it!” The grin on his face was the widest Akaashi had ever seen it and the younger boy could almost see the gears turning in his head. 

“Believe what?” Sure Bokuto was difficult to follow, but most of the time Akaashi at least had an inkling of what he was talking about. This time there was no such luck. He should have been paying attention to what him and his father had been speaking about. 

“Well uh,” All of a sudden Bokuto seemed bashful, turning his eyes downward. “Your dad told me you were adopted! How cool is that!” Cool? “I mean,” His face was turning a shade of pink and the boy fumbled over his words, “I mean…” The raven haired boy watched the other boy levelly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about discussing this. It wasn’t exactly a secret that it had taken him close to a decade to find his family, and he certainly wasn’t ashamed of them, he just hated the way knowing this seemed to make people pity him for some reason.

“It’s just so cool that I’m best friends with someone who is so awesome his parents chose him like that, ya know?” His chest swelled and his shoulders were back like he’d hit a spike worthy of praise. Annnnd almost immediately he wilted and watched Akaashi, gold meeting emeralds. “Uh, we are friends aren’t we ‘Kaashi?” 

He seemed so vulnerable when he asked the question. Bokuto was the kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve. It was another quality that Akaashi really admired, one that he simply wasn’t capable of. 

Vulnerable or not he wasn’t sure how to answer. He did like qualities about Bokuto, but was that the same as liking the person they were attached to? He supposed he didn’t really dislike Bokuto, if that were even possible. He was kind, energetic, they both shared an intense passion for volleyball and Bokuto looked out for Akaashi in his own way. They spent most of their spare time together, that was something friendly people did. 

Part of him wanted to say “yes” but the word caught in his throat before he could. Something about that just scared him, like he would be admitting something terrible if he did so. Bokuto just continued to watch him and Akaashi noticed there was no longer the sound of his mother chopping vegetables, just the sizzle of oil behind him as a pan simmered. 

Akaashi mentally brushed himself off and gave a small nod, trying to phrase his words as best as he could. “We’re teammates, aren’t we Bokuto-san? Don’t worry about it so much.” 

Bokuto laughed happily, patting Akaashi on the shoulder. “Well said, ‘Kaashi! Anyone could be your friend but being your teammate is special!”

Akaashi turned back to finish their dinner and he wasn’t sure if the heat he was feeling was coming from the cooking or his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy hell okay i admit it, i have a thing for ending chapters with blushing i know i know but i'm just super weak alright. i'm pretty sure i've done it like three times so far in asmts (my bnha fic) but i just can't help it. have mercy on my soul.
> 
> plot is coming up i swear.


	8. It was a great day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This expired three months ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my lovely commenters Fall1ing_Softly and InsomniacFox! Thanks so much for your kind words, they mean the world to me. <3

Akaashi stifled a yawn as he flipped to the next page of his textbook, he hadn’t slept much last night and he was having trouble paying attention as he tried to study. The incessant hooting in his ear didn’t help his cause much. 

“‘Kaaaaashi come on, it’s been a half hour and you’ve only turned the page like twice. Let’s go do something fun!” Was that true? He looked at the clock on his cellphone and turned the page back several times. There was the chapter heading in bold print. This reading didn’t have to be done for another several days but he didn’t like to dawdle with his schoolwork, especially now that he was trying to keep Bokuto on track as well.

He closed his book and fixed the other boy with an emerald eye, recieving a squirm in response for his staring. “Did you do your homework, Bokuto-san?” Bokuto let out a loud groan, earning looks from other students in addition to the one he had already collected from Akaashi. 

“It’s just English, I could do that in my sleep. Come on, let’s go.” He whined some more, blinking at Akaashi with those damn giant eyes. Maybe it was just because he was exhausted but Akaashi didn’t really have the heart to deny him. Besides, Bokuto somehow had a knack for the foreign language. If it were any other subject he would have been less willing, but at least the spiker stood a chance if all he had was English to do. 

He reached down to grab his bag, shoving the textbook he had been reading into it for later and watched Bokuto again. He blinked. Once. Twice. A third time. Before finally…

“Wait! We can really go Akaashi?! You really are the best friend!” The larger boy jumped up, yelling when his knees slammed into the table they were at, and managed the jam some crumbled papers into his bag from a still keeled over position. What was he so excited about? It wasn’t like they had practice today, there wasn’t really anything else to do. 

With a tweak of his head Bokuto gestured for Akaashi to follow him, eyes sparkling. Akaashi had to appreciate the effort he had been putting in to not touch his teammate when Bokuto himself often expressed affection through such means. But Akaashi had asked him time and time again to keep his hands to himself and Bokuto really was trying his best. 

Akaashi simply followed Bokuto, listening as he talked on and on about YouTube videos he had seen and funny jokes he had read online. Bokuto had long since grown used to Akaashi’s relative silence, happy to get the occasional “That’s great, Bokuto-san.” “Very funny, Bokuto-san.” “I’d like to see that video for myself, Bokuto-san.” And he even got the occasion small smile from the setter, they had a routine and they quite enjoyed it. 

Following Bokuto out of Fukurodani Academy and onto the street Bokuto was becoming more and more excited - practically shaking with every step. Finally, he turned around with a jump and scrambled to pull something from his pocket. With a wide grin he presented the slip of paper to Akaashi. 

It was bright pink and had a line that made Akaashi suspect the slip had been slipped beneath a windshield wiper blade for some time, the edges were torn and the overall appearance of the slip was a complete crumpled mess - like every paper in the possession of Bokuto. Still, he could read the lettering and that’s all that really mattered. 

“A two-for-one coupon for Nijima-san’s ice cream stand?” Akaashi continued to read the paper as Bokuto cheered. 

“Isn’t that awesome, ‘Kaashi? It’s the perfect day for it too! I mean since it’s just the two of us and we don’t have practice.” It was a well thought out plan, and the wing spiker seemed very proud of himself. But….

“Bokuto-san, this coupon expired months ago.” The grin faltered and Bokuto flipped the sheet over, examining it for a moment before his eyes widened and his face grew hot. 

He stuffed the coupon back into his pocket and shifted to avoid Akaashi’s gaze, he was obviously feeling upset. It had been a very kind gesture, one he hadn’t expected, it would be a shame to let Bokuto-san’s efforts result in nothing. 

Letting out a small hum Akaashi reclaimed Bokuto’s attention, giving him a nod. “We’re already almost there anyway, it would be a shame to have walked all this way for nothing. Let’s go, my treat.” Or rather, it was his father’s treat, after all Akaashi still had extra allowance left over from the start of the school year. This seemed as good a time as any to use it.

“R-really?! You would do that for me ‘Kaashi? You really are the nicest guy, you know!” Akaashi didn’t really believe it, even coming from the ever earnest Bokuto, but he appreciated the attempt nonetheless

They arrived at the quaint ice cream stand a few minutes later, the only people in line were waving their goodbyes as the duo approached. The woman at the stand, Nijima-san, was a grandmother herself and was always happy to see young men the age of her grandsons. 

“Koutarou-kun! Welcome back. I trust school is going well for you?” The woman gave a polite nod to Akaashi but focused on Bokuto for the moment, it was a common occurrence when they were together so Akaashi didn’t particularly mind being in the background. Bokuto just took up the entirely of whatever space he was in, it was a part of his charm.

Charm? Akaashi felt a little hot under the collar at the thought, but it wasn’t worth thinking about now when he was supposed to be making a transaction. Though for the record he wasn’t quite sure what exactly he had to feel embarrassed about. 

Bokuto talked to Nijima-san about his schooling for a moment before turning towards Akaashi, “And Nijima-san this is Akaashi! He’s a member of the team too, and the nicest guy ever! He’s even paying for the ice cream, how awesome is that!?” Bokuto was acting like Akaashi was spending hundreds of thousands of yen on him. It was just ice cream. 

Nijima-san looked between them and Akaashi felt like he was under a microscope. He maintained a polite eye contact and the elder woman eventually clicked her tongue and nodded. “I see.” She focused on the owlish boy again with a warm smile. “Would you like your regular, Koutarou-kun?” Bokuto nodded vigorously, the action somehow reminded Akaashi of a dog wagging his tail. “How about you, Akaashi-kun?” 

The raven haired boy scanned the list of flavors before him, finding his favorite rather quickly. “Mint chocolate chip please, Nijima-san.” He gave a small bow of the head to her as she went to prepare their cones and when he cast his sight to Bokuto the other boy looked like he was about to explode. 

“Is something wrong Bokuto-san?” 

Bokuto raised his arms like he was going to hug Akaashi, but realization dawned on his face and he quickly adjusted himself. “It’s just…” Just? “We have the same favorite ice cream!” He blurted the words out like they were grand in some way but he didn’t quite understand what Bokuto was getting at. “I just… it’s destiny or something right?!” Again with this destiny thing? It wasn’t like mint was an unpopular flavor, in fact it was probably only Akaashi’s favorite because it was also his mother’s favorite so they often had it around. 

Before he could deny Bokuto’s claim there was the sound of a clearing throat. “Sorry to interrupt you boys but you’re all ready - now now dear, put that away it’s on the house. Have a fun rest of your da….y. Come visit me again soon Koutarou-kun!” Akaashi froze, wallet in hand, and grabbed his cone from the woman, earning a wink from her in response. 

Day..? 

 

Da….y? 

He couldn’t figure out why she had said it so strangely, maybe it was a nervous habit or something. But then again the woman had seemed more than comfortable. 

“This really is the best day ever! Come on ‘Kaashi let’s go sit over there and I’ll tell you more about those otters.” 

So they did, and like Bokuto had said: It was a great day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They had a really good... day.
> 
> We’re so close but now it’s time for the plot to progress so in advance: I am very sorry for the upcoming chapters and what I’m about to do. 
> 
> Trashcan-san


	9. Keiji-kun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi has another nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if there’s any typos my phone’s autocorrect was INSISTENT about half this chapter. I think I fixed everything but just in case... sorry!!
> 
> Also just... sorry.

Akaashi was sitting in bed reading, or at least that’s what it would have looked like if someone were to walk in. The reality was that he had opened the book where his bookmark rested and hadn’t turned a page since. Instead he was recounting the day in his head, specifically the afternoon and evening with Bokuto. 

“Have a nice da...y.” He rolled the word around in his mouth for a moment, trying to remember exactly the way the ice cream vendor had said it. Then something clicked. 

“Have a nice date.” He spoke the sentence out loud, quickly silencing himself and listening for any movement outside his door. There wasn’t any. Of course not, it wasn’t like his parents were hovering, just waiting for him to say something embarrassing so they could burst in and make fun of him just for having a crush on Bokuto Koutarou. 

Wait, what. 

It had to have been the exhaustion getting to him, he didn’t think this way about anyone let alone that damn wing spiker. Still, if that was what a date was like then it wasn’t exactly a bad thing. 

Akaashi had been starting to think he had a friend, but if his wandering thoughts had anything to say about it that wasn’t all they could be. 

He felt a little… hopeful. Bokuto really was a good guy, he got ahead of himself sometimes without thinking anything through and he could and would talk to anyone about anything but. But. 

But. 

Akaashi was the complete opposite. Bokuto was fine filling up the space that Akaashi didn’t need to occupy in presence or words. Akaashi thought everything out before making a decision and Bokuto was impulsive so they each had something the other lacked. Weren’t opposites supposed to attract?

But this was a dangerous way of thinking. Akaashi tossed his book onto the desk pressed up against the window and reached to turn off his lamp. It’s very still in the house this time of night, his mother has long been in bed and he can hear the white noise coming from the TV as his father watches it - probably catching up on those fashion shows he can never get anyone else to watch with him. 

He enjoys the stillness of the home for a moment more. 

And then the thoughts come back to him. 

Yes, it was dangerous to get so hopeful about Bokuto. Bokuto was a good guy, a fantastic guy even, but he only knew Akaashi. Keiji he always felt, was the part of him that _they_ had left behind. He didn’t even know their family name because they had never seen fit to tell him. 

He was just… Keiji-kun at his core and no matter what he did that was all he really amounted to. He could find a family that really loved him. One that wanted him. They wiped his tears and listened to him cry and when all was said and done they kept him anyway. But that didn’t change the fact that he was still Keiji-kun. 

He got great marks, and he practiced as hard as he could with the team but even then… That didn’t distance him from his true self at all. 

And now he had finally found a friend who accepted him for what he was.

But that friend didn’t even know him at all. That boy was friends with Akaashi. Adored Akaashi. Thought Akaashi was the fucking bees knees but he wouldn’t say the same thing about Keiji. 

Because Keiji wasn’t worth adoring.  
Keiji was absolutely nothing at all, he knew that the way he knew Bokuto was about to cheer for his set by the way those damn golden eyes sparkled, he knew it the way he knew his mother had had a stressful day at work just by the way she put her keys down, he knew it like he knew he was a monster who was better off alone. 

Because he was smart enough to see what was right in front of him, he knew. 

 

Akaashi finally drifts off to sleep, his mind churning with reminders of his inadequacies. It’s a fitful sleep, one interrupted by the cogs turning in his own brain until finally they grind to a stop and he falls in deeper. 

 

There are eyes on him. Looking from every direction, they’re there every which way he turns. To the left. Right. Above him. Below him. They crest along his forearms and peak across his shoulder blades and hang in the air like a mist prying away any decency he may have had. 

Brown eyes pitying him. Green eyes indifferent. Golden eyes idolizing. They change, from one to the next eyes he recognizes. Eyes of his teammates. His classmates. Nijima-san. 

Just so many fucking eyes. 

But he feels absolutely nothing but desire from them. Like he’s some sort of toy to just be passed around to whoever wants him. 

_He’s prettier than most little girls I’ve seen._

Why does it matter what he looks like? He was born this way, it doesn’t have anything to do with him at all. 

_Keiji-kun, stop it and come over here. You don’t wanna get dirty before they see you._

He just wanted to play. There were other little boys his age at the house they were squatting in and he finally had a chance to make friends. 

_Leave Keiji-kun alone, he’s special._

There 

is 

nothing 

special 

about 

HIM. 

So many eyes on him at all times and nobody sees it. Nobody cares enough to see it. He becomes nothing at all, fading away into dust as he fights for survival the only way he knows how. 

He’s always done what they ask him too. He can feel himself - his soul - dying and he still does whatever they want. He has to listen when they call him by name. It’s always spoken so sweetly but no one has ever treated him that way. 

_Turn around Keiji-kun, we can’t see your face._

He hurts. How long have they been twisting him around, pulling and pushing different outfits onto him, scrubbing his face to remove makeup and making him stay still as they add more around his eyes. 

How long has it been since he’d last seen those green eyes, the ones he shares, the ones that so carelessly traded him away. How long? 

How long has it been since he’s eaten? He would take anything at all they offered him. Anything to stop this pain that’s eating him alive. 

But even if he weren’t hungry. 

Even if he wasn’t being pushed and prodded and treated like some doll that can be displayed and discarded. 

Even if he had been able to play in the dirt with the boys from a house he’d hardly known. 

Even if all of these of these were true it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Because for as long as he can remember there’s been nothing but darkness inside of him. Something that threatens to devour any shred of kindness he’s given, any light that shines on him, because he needs it. 

He craves it. 

He needs it more than he needs a full belly. 

He needs it more than he needs air in his lungs. 

More than he needs freedom. 

More than choices. 

More than he needs anything else this world could provide him

he needs someone who needs him back. 

But they never do.  
Because the eyes they drag across his body like a stick drags through wet sand. 

Like a knife through butter or a sword through flesh. 

Cut him down until he’s nothing at all. 

Finally they cover him with a new name for this new form. “Akaashi.” 

 

And Keiji-kun is left to live on in his memory. Where he has nothing and no one at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s my three chapters on July 4th! Yay! 
> 
> Admittedly I have the two after this finished as well but I’m gonna post those later this week... I guess unless someone really wants them??? 
> 
> Comment if you do I guess and I’ll toss ‘em up. 
> 
> Uhh... so yeah, starting an IwaOi soulmates fic cause the idea hit me today and I have so much of it planned out between writing these chapters that it’s ridiculous. 
> 
> Stay tuned for that if you want... 
> 
> Trashcan out.


	10. Thousands of red eyed mice scratch at the door.

The whistle blows and there’s a pause, then Bokuto turns to him with that million watt grin of his and Akaashi raises a hand for a high five. 

There’s a slap, the crack of skin against skin, and they clasp hands for a moment before pulling apart. It was just an exhibition match, sure, but they wanted to keep up their momentum and steamroll their way through nationals. 

Akaashi was exhausted, nightmares having plagued him again the past few nights. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Because he’s on the court, and they won. 

Their momentum was kept all right. 

When the time finally comes for them to leave Akaashi waits for Bokuto, the wing spiker is excitedly chatting up a prospective student about all the merits of playing for the Fukurodani VBC. The rest of the team has already left so it’s just the two of them as they exit the school, heading out into the darkening night. 

Even with his realization from the previous night in mind Akaashi doesn’t feel strange about the other boy. It feels the same as it always has and for just a moment he allows himself to wonder if that’s a good or bad sign for him in regards to a potential romantic entanglement between them. 

But it doesn’t matter. That’s a line he’s not crossing. Bokuto is off limits. He deserves much better than Akaashi. Someone kind and giving like him. The raven haired boy knows this is not him. Will never be him. So he will just be content with that they have - after all it’s much more than he’s ever had before. 

Bokuto yammers on and on about the match, Akaashi’s sets, Komi’s digs, his own spikes, his excitement is contagious and Akaashi smiles in response to it, further fueling Bokuto’s excitement. 

There’s a couple, a man and a woman, standing by the vending machines. They’re both tall and slender, both have hair that looks dark in this lighting, and they both step forward as Bokuto and Akaashi walk by. 

Bokuto stops first, earning the attention of Akaashi who has no idea why the other boy is stopping, and as Akaashi turns to look at the couple the woman reaches forwards and cups his face in her hands. 

“Keiji-kun.” The woman speaks, her voice soft and feminine like the actresses Bokuto so frequently sees on TV, at first he thinks she must be a relative that had come to see the match but when he looks at Akaashi Bokuto decides that can’t be the case. 

Warning bells trip in his mind one after another, the first being Keiji’s eyes. From the way the streetlights cast across the other boys features Bokuto can see the whites of his eyes as they expand, growing into a look of complete and utter fear. It’s such a vivid expression for Akaashi in particular that it hurts Bokuto to see him this way. 

The second is that this woman is touching Akaashi with no regard for the fact that he doesn’t like to be touched, even in his own home with his parents Bokuto has watched as the elder Akaashi’s move as if asking permission before they even so much as pat him on the back. This woman surprised him and is now digging into his face like he’ll fade away if she lets go. 

The final thing that catches Bokuto’s attention is that ‘Kaashi is silent. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t move, he just lets her do as she pleases. It’s not because this woman is a family member, Bokuto himself has seen Akaashi ask his parents to give him some space with no hesitation. And it definitely isn’t because this woman is a stranger, when Bokuto was a complete stranger Akaashi very clearly had no qualms expressing what he needed. 

The reason for this was something different, Bokuto’s gut is telling him as much. The man reaches out his hand and looks like he’s intending to rest it on Akaashi’s head but before he can Bokuto grabs him by the wrist, the wing spiker doesn’t even have to think about it he just does it. The man looks mad, flashing sharp green eyes at him and for just a second Bokuto falters. “S-sorry but ‘Kaashi doesn’t like to be touched. Please leave him alone.” 

The woman lets out a hum and strokes Akaashi’s face, tracing the line of his jaw. “Now, now, that can’t be true. You’ve never minded before, Keiji-kun!” Akaashi shifts his eyes downwards but if it’s because he’s disgusted or ashamed Bokuto can’t tell. “Look how big and strong you’ve become, and even more beautiful. You’ve always been so pretty, Keiji-kun. You don’t mind if I touch you, right? Just tell me if you do.” 

He clearly does mind. But he doesn’t say anything and Bokuto has no idea why. “‘Kaashi, c’mon. Your parents will be worried if you don’t get home soon.” He gestured for Akaashi to follow but the setter doesn’t respond. Doesn’t so much as look at him. “‘Kaashi?” 

Again, nothing. But Bokuto has to do something, anything, to get the younger boy out of here because he just knows something terrible is gonna happen if he doesn’t. Bokuto drops the mystery man’s wrist and grabs Akaashi’s instead. “Akaashi, come on!” His voice is louder than he means it to be and Bokuto hates the way it makes ‘Kaashi flinch. But he follows anyway, arm stiff in Bokuto’s grasp. 

Bokuto hates this. He hates the way Akaashi won’t speak. He hates the way the other boy won't relax in his hold. He hates having to touch Akaashi without his consent. Against his consent. But the way Akaashi’s feet are dragging across the pavement doesn’t lead him to believe they’d be going anywhere if it was up to Akaashi.

They’re stomping down a dark street, trees bunch on either side casting shadows across their path and it’s so quiet. This street is pretty busy in the morning, but now under the cover of darkness they’re alone, all foot traffic having already cleared up. 

The arm in his grasp pulls against him. “Bo-“ But he doesn’t want to hear any arguments, his head is just screaming at him to get Akaashi home where he’ll be safe. “Bokuto-san.” He’s pulled to a stop when Akaashi digs his feet in, refusing to continue in their march. 

Akaashi jerks his arm away, crossing it against his chest with his other one, and turns away from Bokuto, eyes facing downwards. “Thank you Bokuto-san but I’ll be just fine on my own.” There’s a sharpness to his voice, but Bokuto doesn’t go anywhere. They stand in silence for several minutes. “Bokuto. Leave.” 

“Not happening, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto can hear the edge to Akaashi’s voice, like a thin spiderweb-like crack on a pane of glass. He sounds like he’s just a hair's breadth away from breaking down and Bokuto sure as hell isn't leaving his friend to that alone. 

Akaashi continues to walk, shoulders hunched forward and quivering. Bokuto stays quiet but alert, making sure Akaashi at least is physically safe while he thinks whatever it is he’s thinking. They pass through the trees and under another streetlight and that’s when it happens. 

Akaashi folds in on himself, shoulders shaking like a leaf on the breeze as he cries. He’s squatting down, arms wrapped around his knees in a position that has to be taxing but if that’s what ‘Kaashi needs in this moment then who is Bokuto to judge? 

Thick wet sobs break from the normally stoic boys throat accompanied by shaking gasps as he attempts to steady his breathing. 

There are so many things Bokuto wants in this moment. He wants to pull Akaashi into his arms as a show of support. He wants to ask what’s wrong. He wants to turn around and sprint back to the school, to scream at the couple from earlier and ask what the fuck they did to him. 

But he doesn’t do any of these things. Instead he stays where he is as Akaashi breaks down. That’s all he can do: protect his friend as he crumbles into the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I don’t live just to upset Akaashi. ;w;


	11. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Oh, my love remind me. What was it that I did? Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch? Did I build a ship to wreck?’ - Florence + The Machine “Ship to Wreck”.

Bokuto regrets it. He should have pushed more. He should have insisted Akaashi talk to him. Talk to his parents. Talk to anyone! Just tell someone what the hell was going on to hurt him so badly.

But he didn’t. No, he let Akaashi cry in the middle of the street and when the boy wiped his tears and his face returned to much the same as it always was Bokuto trusted him when he said he was going to be just fine. That he was stressed. That he just needed to get it out of his system. 

It wasn’t the words themselves he trusted, after all they were obviously complete lies, but in the moment he couldn’t argue with those sad eyes that begged him to just drop it. After the fact he trusted his friend. Thought he would handle things in the right way, Bokuto had no idea what that would entail but he trusted that Akaashi would do it. 

 

He didn’t. Instead he was nose to nose with some random third year, pressed against the outer wall of the gym. Practice started in a few minutes, and before Akaashi would be overseeing the club members or making sure all the equipment was in top shape. Now he was laughing at something this guy said like it was the funniest thing in the world - a laugh Bokuto had never recieved for any of his absolutely brilliant jokes.

The third year pressed closer still, laying down several kisses across the first years chin before nuzzling him. “You are so damn beautiful, Keiji. I’m so lucky.” Akaashi giggled, _giggled_ and pushed him away. 

When Akaashi walked by Bokuto on his way into the gym he just nodded and gave a polite “Bokuto-san”, but he kept his eyes trained straight ahead like eye contact was the last thing he wanted. Bokuto cast a glance at the third year, who was peeking into the gym trailing after Akaashi. 

He wasn’t the first guy, and unfortunately Bokuto had the sinking feeling he would be the last one that Akaashi played around with before he achieved whatever it was he was trying to. Practice would start like usual, Akaashi would pay no mind to his mingling fan, and eventually the guy would leave to go find someone that wanted him around. 

Except this time he didn’t. The third year stayed, and Akaashi pounced on him when practice was over, practically pulling him out the door as he left the rest of the team to clean up. 

“Hey, uh, Bo…” Konoha was standing behind him, flanked by Saru and Komi. “Is everything okay with Akaashi, he’s just been acting pretty diff-”

“Why the hell is he whoring it up all of a sudden - did you two have a fight or something?” Komi earned a smack by Saru for his comment and the libero sheepishly whispered something back at him. “What I mean is, he’s not acting anything like the Akaashi we all know so what’s the deal?”

“He’s fine, just give him some time alright?” But he was really talking to himself, lying to himself actually because Bokuto really wasn’t certain if Akaashi was going to be okay and Akaashi refused to speak with him.

 

Akaashi wasn’t fine. It had been two weeks since the encounter after their exhibition match and Akaashi was out of control. He still attended practice and did well with his studies as far as Bokuto could tell, but he now hung out with a group of older students from another school. 

It was… concerning. 

Especially when Akaashi started showing up to practice with bruises littering his neck and thighs. Most of the team was actively ignoring the marks, too embarrassed to say anything, but not the ever truthful Komi. He always spoke his mind. 

“Your new boyfriend must be something special if you’re letting him mark you up like that. I gotta be honest though I’m pretty surprised that you of all people would lose your mind over being in a relationship - that’s something our Ace would do.” 

Akaashi blinked, watching Komi levally. Bokuto recognized this look, it was the same one Akaashi would wear before he said something brutally honest that crushed Bokuto’s dreams. 

“Hm.” He turned away from them, giving the team an unintentionally good view of the hickey on the side of his neck. “I suppose Bokuto-san would do something like that.” He left it at that though, not commenting on anything else Komi had said. Odd, Akaashi wasn’t one to hold something in like that. 

 

Sixteen days after the incident Bokuto was just completely done. He’d been patient. He may as well have been an angel the way he was handling this. But on the sixteenth day Akaashi didn’t show up to school. It wasn’t just that he was skipping out on the team’s lunch meetups, he just hadn’t shown up at all. He wasn’t at practice either. 

Bokuto would have let it slide. Maybe Akaashi was sick, maybe he was off somewhere with his family, Bokuto didn’t know what the first year was up to every moment of the day. But just as he was about to head into the gym to start practice he received a text. 

 

 _Yo, Bokuto. If you see this do me a favor and come pick up your teammate. I think his name’s Akaashi? That first year all the girls are obsessed with… The guys too I guess all things considered but… I think the guy could really use a friend._

Honestly Bokuto had no idea who this guy was just by name, he traded numbers with as many people as he could and texted them until he got bored but… apparently that had come in handy since something was up with Akaashi. 

Fine. But this was the last straw. Enough was enough. 

Bokuto texted the guy back, inquiring about an address and zipped up his sweatshirt, closing his bag afterwards and slinging it over his shoulder. Practice didn’t matter if a teammate was in trouble.

No, it didn’t matter if his best friend was in trouble - as unfriendly as he had been in the weeks prior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter: Bokuto attempts to knock some sense back into a compromised Akaashi.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Back from my hiatus and it’s with a fic completely unrelated to my others so.... there’s that???????? 
> 
> Super short chapter cause it’s just an intro but I’m working on a real first chapter that should be posted in a few hours at the most if all goes to plan. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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